


In Defining Love

by RedRidingHood



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-04-02 05:37:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4048219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedRidingHood/pseuds/RedRidingHood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They slept back to back. Distant enough that they didn’t touch, but close enough that they could feel the warmth of the other’s skin and the palpable air of life that emanated from a human body. It was close enough to know the other was alive, and that the other was there, and it allowed them to feel safe; that coveted sense of security that neither felt when alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Defining Love

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what this is, it started from the idea of how Root and Shaw might sleep and somehow ended up being a piece reflecting on their relationship. I'm not even sure what I've written; it may just be ramblings, I feel like it is, but best way to go back into writing is just to jump in head first, right? :D   
> I hope you like it!

They slept back to back. Distant enough that they didn’t touch, but close enough that they could feel the warmth of the other’s skin and the palpable air of life that emanated from a human body. It was close enough to know the other was alive, and that the other was there, and it allowed them to feel safe; that coveted sense of security that neither felt when alone.

Root faced the window. Shaw faced the door.

They protected each other, sheltering their lover from the omnipresent danger that weighed so heavily on their thoughts. It was symbiosis; mutualism that they had evolved quickly, and without either of them realising. Sleeping alone seemed like such a distant thought, a forgotten memory from decades ago and when they did – if they had to- sleep rarely came.

They had grown accustomed to each other and to the fact there was a body next to them when they fell asleep and again when they woke. Shaw knew it should have felt foreign, sharing a space that was once proudly kept as solely hers, but it didn’t. Root fit into her space unobtrusively, fit into her life without a disturbance. It should have made Shaw retreat, or made her push Root away, but unbeknownst to Shaw, Root had become something she needed; something she couldn’t live without.

She had lived her life independently, even as a child she was the type to do things alone. She had never needed anyone. Not like she needed Root now.

She would never admit to anyone, she wouldn’t even admit to herself that she needed Root. But she felt herself falling, felt herself longing for the nights where Root’s soul would lie entangled with hers while their bodies maintained that perfect distance that had evolved so naturally between them.

In the darkness of their bedroom she would relish in the feeling of Root’s warm body less than an inch away; the air between their bare backs warm and abuzz with the atoms bouncing off of their skin. She would watch the door, staring into the darkness that existed out with the wooden frame; the tenebrous mass of the unknown that existed outside of their safe-ground.

She would know Root was awake, hear her breathing in the silence of the night but neither would speak. Root watched the window, Shaw watched the door; they kept each other safe until they succumbed to the peaceful sleep they had long forgotten was possible and they would wake up, alive and warm in the daylight that seemed to hold less monsters than the dark.

They would wake up slowly. Shaw first, and with the first glimmer of sunlight that peaked in through the curtains- she had never been able to sleep in the daylight even as a child- and she would wait, watching the door until she felt the first trace of life from the brunette behind her. Sometimes neither of them moved, sometimes they remained silent and still in the comfort of the morning, savouring every last moment of their sanctuary before they returned to the world of bullets and bloodshed. Sometimes Root would roll over, the mattress moving under her weight as a tell-tale sign before Shaw felt fingertips on her skin and kisses at her shoulder, and sometimes- in a rare moment- Shaw would be the first to move, shifting so that she framed Root’s back and propping herself up on her elbow to stare down at the woman who had changed her so incomprehensibly. She would attempt to act as if it meant nothing, but she knew, and she knew Root knew.

She was supposed to hate herself for falling; she was supposed to be in control.

She was supposed to hate Root for pulling her down, but she couldn’t.

She blamed Root for many things; a couple of scars, some ripped clothes, and several poorly-executed adventures, but she couldn’t blame Root for breaking her own rules. _Three nights._ Three nights was the most she’d ever spent with anyone regardless of how hot, fun, or promising they were. It had been a hard and fast rule all her life; it was unbreakable.

And yet she’d broken it.

She’d broken it, and she didn’t care. With everyone before she had hated the feeling of their body next to her while she slept; the suffocating heat, the unpredictability of a sleeping human, the cage of heavy limbs she feared being trapped in. She didn’t bring people home so she always had a place to escape to, a place to sleep alone. Yet with Root, she let Root into her home –after a few break-ins- and every night she let her sleep in her bed; the very last place she felt she owned completely.

Root had become an extension of her, Root knew her better than anyone and she didn’t have to try. They were so similar, and yet still so different that they simply worked. Their relationship, in a sense, was wordless; there was no asking what side of the bed the other preferred, or how the other preferred to sleep; they had merely fallen – accidentally- into a routine that fitted them both perfectly.

The very first night had followed a long and tiring day that left them both empty and exhausted shells of themselves who craved nothing more than the illusive sleep that had avoided them both for years. They had crumbled, half-clothed and carelessly into the sheets of Shaw’s bed and fallen into a childlike sleep; back to back with Root facing the window and Shaw facing the door. It had been surreal, unnatural to them both and it gave way to a plethora of questions and worries when the morning came. It was like a one-night stand when waking is greeted with the heavy sense of regret deep in the pit of your stomach, except it wasn’t regret.

It was caution, worry and a sense of realisation that sat, unmoving in the back of your throat. For Shaw it was the realisation that a single person could change something so deep-rooted within her without her even realising it. For Shaw, it was the first moment that she understood truly what safety felt like, and the first moment she entertained the dangerous thoughts that perhaps she did need somebody; perhaps she could feel for somebody, and perhaps that somebody was Root.


End file.
